Weary Traveler
by Lady Viola Delesseps
Summary: A brief look into Henry and Claire's life by recreating a conversation between them about Claire's miscarriages, Henry's vasectomy, and their future. Based on an acting exercise and using the original dialogue we generated during the exercise.


"Henry?" A voice came through the dark. "Is that you?"

"I know I'm late," Henry sighed, coming in the door, a bit stiffly still, Claire thought, and easing himself back onto the cot with an unconscious groan. "Were you waiting?"

"No, not particularly."

"Well, good. There's nothing to wait for. I'm going to sleep over here for one more night."

Claire felt her jaw stiffen, and she sat up, peering into the shadows she knew hid Henry. "I'm not happy, you know."

"It was the only thing to do. I don't want to have to worry about you all the time." Henry flopped back and focused on the ceiling, hearing his wife's voice as if it were from far away as she reiterated in a rising voice that it wasn't his choice to make, that she should have had a say in it, that she still hadn't forgiven him, and maybe never could...

Finally, he had to interrupt. The conversation grew heated – things they had said before and things they never thought they'd say to each other. Henry let Claire rail about how she wanted just a simple thing in life – to have a baby, and when she stopped, he offered blandly the other choices.

"You know what I mean!" Claire exploded. Henry gritted his teeth and forced the harsh words out.

"Well, it's not going to happen." There was a long silence. Then Claire heard a choke in Henry's voice as he summed up, "I'm sorry. It's my fault, and I just couldn't do this to you again. I thought you knew you wouldn't have a normal life when you married me."

"I did know." Claire's voice was soft, and Henry strained his ears to hear her next words. "And honestly, even knowing what I now know, I would do it again if I had the chance."

Henry smiled, love flooding up from his chest and filling his throat so he could barely force out, "I've loved you since you were a little girl."

"I knew I loved you then, but you told me you were married..." Claire joked. It felt good to laugh again, freely. It seemed like it had been such a long time. They began to laugh and tease just like always, and, just like always, Claire brought up the topic of the different ages of Henrys she met.

"Did you like him better than me?" Henry squinted in the dark. "What was my hair like?"

"Longer. Library days." Henry nodded. Then there was a pause, and Claire changed the subject. "I want you to promise me something."

"Alright. I'm not saying I''ll promise, but what is it?"

"That we won't argue anymore.. Because I have something I want to tell you."

"What, is it my fault?"

"Yes." Claire smiled.

"Ouch. Not again..What did I do?" As much as Henry really didn't want to hear what he did wrong, he had to admit he was intrigued. There weren't supposed to be any secrets anyway, and he thought the sooner he knew what he might have done in the past or future, the sooner he could repent of it. But it was like trying to pry a slobbery ball out of the stubborn jaws of a black lab to get her to say anything.

"Are you going to tell me, or not?" Henry finally laughed. "It can't be that bad, because you don't seem mad at me."

"I'm pregnant." Henry opened his mouth – in a silent gasp, in shock, in the quick response that never came – and found himself lying there feeling like he couldn't breathe. His mind was in a whirl.

"What –" he managed, "How in the world –"

"I said it was your fault." Claire's voice assumed that wonderful quality to it that Henry never heard unless it was one of the times when he was literally hanging on her every word, like when he asked her to marry him and she said "No – just kidding,"... "In the car when I went to pick you up in the middle of the night. Before the surgery."

"My younger self," Henry breathed, and then groaned inwardly. "What are we going to do?"

"Do? Nothing." She sighed. "I'm so happy."

"You are?"

"Yes. And I'm not going to stress about this at all. And you'd better not either."

"I'm worried about you already." He had the sudden overwhelming urge to enfold her in his arms, but resisted if for a moment longer.

"But are you happy?" Claire adjusted her pillows, and then stopped rustling, listening for his answer. It came on the shadows – his voice was growing sleepy, and she smiled.

"Yes. Yes, I am."


End file.
